


unwavering devotion

by wagiyuubeef



Series: fe3h/reader scenarios <3 [8]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Coma, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:35:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26748880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wagiyuubeef/pseuds/wagiyuubeef
Summary: in which Hubert reflects on the concept of devotion, his love for you, and if you will ever wake up
Relationships: Hubert von Vestra/Reader
Series: fe3h/reader scenarios <3 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1920505
Comments: 7
Kudos: 54





	unwavering devotion

**Author's Note:**

> original request made on my tumblr acc @truthofaname:
> 
> I shall make a request for hubert! I know you are looking forwars to write for him. How about.. hubert being as loyal to the fem reader as he is with edelgard but he is more soft with the reader? He actually loves her? But the reader gets kidnapped/poisoned/she took a hit for him and he rescues her/saves her? idk😂 something bad happened to the reader just to add the angst to this. Thanks! Sorry if this seems vague, i just want you to have fun with this request and to take it the path you like!❤

Contrary to what many believe, Hubert’s capacity for devotion is not split down the middle, each half dedicated to Lady Edelgard and yourself respectively. No, he does not think that is the case. If he had to describe it in such an arbitrarily quantifiable manner, he would say he simply has two times of such devotion. One for carving the path of the Adrestian Emperor–the path he’s been set to walk even before he was born. The other is solely for you, your safety, happiness and love.

In truth, Hubert von Vestra knows he’s not meant to set foot down two paths, especially not two that are so different in nature. As much as he’d like to think he has twice the capacity to dedicate his body and soul to two separate people, he’s aware of his bitter morality. He is but a man. Even he is subject to exhaustion and outright bias in the worst of times.

He would be lying if he said he’s never thought of abandoning you–or, more precisely, the future he desires to have with you. As a daughter of a notable politician in the Empire, Hubert knows he will never fully rid his life of your presence–especially not when, in addition to your bloodline, you are also close friends with and a trusted ally of Edelgard herself. Still, he has considered what it would feel like to sever his ties with you, the strong bonds that have never wavered ever since you were children playing together in your family’s garden.

He imagines his life would be dull and sad.

He imagines it would feel quite like how he was feeling right now as he sits by your bedside in the infirmary, your limp hand held firming in his larger, pale one. His chest aches, it’s been hurting for so long that he’s gotten used to it. He can nearly sit through several minutes without acknowledging its existence but he prefers not to do that, finding that every time reality sinks back in, the hurt comes back stronger than ever.

You have been unconscious for nearly a week. Linhardt, who has been taking care of your recovery in spite of his feigned reluctance, had deduced that during the battle to seize Garreg Mach after the Empire declared war on the church, you’d suffered a severe dark magical blow to your head.

“I don’t think she’ll die,” he’d said a few days ago when your condition stabilised, “but I’m not sure when she’ll wake up. I believe there’s even a small chance she might not ever wake up.”

Hubert would have tried to disprove his claim, perhaps even question his magical prowess–how can someone so lazy and disinterested in medicine have enough knowledge in faith to save you? Except, he was there himself to witness your fall because he’d been too slow in saving you.

_He braced himself for impact, knowing fully well that any attempt at dodging the attack would be futile considering the heaviness of his legs and the exhaustion seeping into his bones. Hubert could only hope that he’d be conscious enough after the blow to produce a counterattack of his own. Perhaps, if he was lucky, he’d remain awake to bask in the inevitable fall of Garreg Mach._

_Lady Edelgard’s victory was certain, he could tell just by looking at how the Adrestian forces overwhelmed that of the church with much ease. Too bad he’d placed himself in the front lines–was it arrogance or ignorance? It very well might have been a bit of both._

_But as he caught glimpse of your familiar face coming into view and felt your hands clutch at his shoulders, Hubert realised it was merely a desire to stand by your side on the battlefield. You’d volunteered to be in the frontlines so he decided to do the same. As he watched your face contort in agony and your fingers lose their grip, he wondered why he made such a foolish decision._

Every time he closes his eyes, he sees your body fall to the ground. You’d used yourself as a human shield for him.

“You silly, silly girl,” he mumbles under his breath, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand. Your skin has gotten a little bit colder than it was a few minutes ago, his eyes flicker to your sleeping face, the tightness in his chest relaxing only slightly when he sees you take in a breath. “Are you feeling cold? I shall help you.”

He brings your hand up to his lips before he kisses the back of it. Then, instead of placing it back down, he instead turns your hand over and carefully rests his cheek in your palm. He notes gladly that the inside feels warmer than the outside, the softness of your touch is oddly nostalgic to him. He wonders if you feel it, too.

_“You’re wearing yourself thin, Hubert von Vestra!” you chided, glaring daggers up at him as he peered down at your frustrated face. “I understand it is nerve-racking, considering that El’s plans are about to put into action but you must rest.”_

_“There is no time for rest, my dear,” he replied unconvincingly, his own body very much in need of recuperation. “In a few days we will be declaring war, I must ensure everything is perfect for her Highness.”_

_“Everything is already perfect,” you sighed, reaching up to cup his face between your hands, your thumbs slowly running over the dark patches under his eyes. “If you continue to refuse yourself some rest, the only imperfection of our plans will be your inability to walk straight from exhaustion!”_

_He couldn’t reply, too tired to argue when he knew you were right. In fact, at that moment, all he could focus on was the feeling of your touch, the warmth of your hands and the tenderness of it all. He was overwhelmed by your love, even when it came in the form of scolding him like a child._

_That evening, you did what even Lady Edelgard herself could not do: make him sleep a full night’s rest._

Thinking back on that fateful day, Hubert realises he hasn’t rested properly ever since the Empire had taken over Garreg Mach. At night, in your absence, all he can do is toss and turn. Even when he could drift off to sleep, all he would see is your corpse laying at his feet. At some point, he’d given up on trying entirely, finding solace only in spending time by your side. The only times he leaves are when her Majesty requires his assistance but she has been asking less of him as of late, worried as much as he is over your comatose state.

“Wake up… please, my dear (Y/N),” he whispers shakily, nuzzling his face deeper into your palm, “all our lives we have not gone a single day without speaking with one another, have we not? As pathetic as it seems–” he can’t help but chuckle humourlessly at his predicament “–I miss you very much. I miss hearing your voice and feeling you rest next to me. I cannot imagine a satisfying life ahead of me without you in it.”

Hubert laughs at himself again. It feels like he’s talking to a wall.

Except, this time, the wall seems to speak back:

“Is that… so?” your tired, raspy voice sends a jolt of surprise through his body. Chair beneath him rattles before a loud clanging noise rings throughout the room, indicating its untimely fall. “That hurt my ears…” you speak once more, wincing at the sound.

“I’m sorry, my dear, I’m sorry,” Hubert mutters, falling to his knees so that his face is level with your own, still tightly clutching your hand to his face. “How are you feeling? Are you okay? Does your head hurt? Is your vision blurry?”

“I-I’m still tired,” you groan, rubbing your face with your free hand before you stretch it out towards him. “Sleep with me?” you ask with a smile, an expression that Hubert mirrors.

He lets out a sigh of relief and feels his poor heart return to its normal pace for the first time in days. As he crawls carefully into bed with you, he feels the true extent of his exhaustion begin to seep in. He tries his best to stay awake for just a little while longer so that he can look at your face once more but the moment you turn over to hug him as you drift off to sleep, he feels himself staring to doze off peacefully in your arms.


End file.
